


Take A Bite Of My Heart Tonight

by saslu



Category: Teahouse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-13
Updated: 2011-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-27 06:54:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saslu/pseuds/saslu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys pays a visit to Axis, and he isn't acting like himself.  Not that Axis cares or anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take A Bite Of My Heart Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads-up: this is from Axis's point of view, and in keeping with his character he throws around some gay slurs while he lets the expletives fly.

He came without an appointment – again.  And Atros didn’t do anything.  Instead, he brusquely told Axis to clear his schedule for the day – meaning he had to cancel on Felicia, which, _fuck_ : she was one of his favorites – because the blue-haired queer had asked for him specifically.

Not that Axis was surprised or anything.  His crotch was fucking magical, and apparently the faggot had learned a thing or two about quality since he picked Claret’s tits over Axis; he’d consistently chosen Axis since then.  And since Axis didn’t control who clients picked, it didn’t mean _he_ was gay or anything.  Just Rhys.

Sucked for him.

And speaking of sucking…

“’Sup, girlfriend?” Axis grinned around his cigarette, watching with satisfaction through the smoky haze as Rhys paused at the threshold and waved a hand in front of his face.  No need for a lineup tonight – Rhys had come straight upstairs.

“I keep forgetting how much smaller your new room is,” Rhys said, and Axis scowled, sitting up straighter in his chair.  “It really accentuates all the filth.”

He pointedly glanced up at the ceiling fan; a different-colored bra dangled from each of the blades.  Axis exhaled, the outline of his client blurring momentarily beyond the fresh rush of smoke.  The little fag Rory had turned his old, far more spacious digs into a minimalistic piece of shit; Axis figured he might as well compensate by trashing his new space as thoroughly as possible.  It kept Atros the hell away, so it was doing its job.

“I keep forgetting how fucking _chatty_ you are,” Axis snapped.  “Do something more interesting with your mouth, why don’t you?”

He slouched back into the chair again, spreading his legs pointedly.  Rhys scoffed and didn’t move.  He’d closed the door behind him, but he was still standing just inside the room.  That was weird; he usually at least walked around and sneered at shit until they got down to business.

“What, shy all of a sudden?” Axis prodded.  “Usually you’re all over me like gay on a rainbow.”

Rhys blinked, seeming to snap out of his thoughts.  A ghost of his usual smirk flickered across his face as he said, “I would, but some mysterious force is repelling me like a magnet…I think it’s your monstrous ego.”

He advanced a few steps but then started hovering again, glancing around at the freshly panty-adorned lamp and the jumbled drawers of Axis’ dresser like he’d never seen anything like them.  Axis drummed his grimy heels on the floor impatiently, eyes narrowing.  Some of the whores catered to clients who wanted to hang around and pretend the whole setup was civilized – that frigid bitch Lilith, for one – but Axis didn’t like wasting time.  And he might not be a fag like this guy, but if he didn’t make a move then they’d be sitting around all fucking day.

Axis hauled himself out of the chair and sauntered toward Rhys, casually grinding his cig into an ashtray on the way.

“So are you paying to gawk or fuck or what?” he demanded, getting right up in Rhys’s face.  His breath probably stank of nicotine and that never failed to piss Rhys off, but that was cool because getting pissed usually got him in a pushy (horny) kind of mood.

“A little patience wouldn’t kill you, Alice,” Rhys said, but fisted his hand in Axis’s hair and kissed him, _finally_ , so mission fucking accomplished.  Claret could be dense but she was right about Rhys being good with his mouth; he just went for it with tongue and everything, their lips molding together, a curiously perfect fit.

Axis let himself enjoy it – why not?  He closed his eyes as Rhys scraped his teeth down Axis’s neck – he fucking loved it when he did that – and pushed his hips into Rhys’s experimentally; yeah, he was getting hard already.  Easy as always.  Axis pushed his hands up under Rhys’s fancy-ass shirt, running his hot palms over the other man’s muscled back.  Rhys groaned and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Axis’s jeans, and started pushing toward the bed.  It was no longer king-sized, but still awesomely comfortable; the thread count of his sheets hadn’t suffered with his demotion.  Axis didn’t complain as Rhys pushed him back into the mattress, instead wrapping his legs around the other man’s waist and getting a good grinding rhythm going.  He was familiar with Rhys by now, and knew what kind of pace he liked – which happened to be the kind of pace Axis liked: intense at the start and a fast build.

“Bet you’ve been creaming your pants waiting for this all week,” Axis growled, clamping his hands over Rhys’s ass and pushing them together harder.  Rhys drew in his breath, belying the cool way he raised an eyebrow.

“And I bet _you_ ,” he retorted, pausing to suck at the base of Axis’s throat, “like that image way more than you want to admit.”

“Bullshit,” Axis said, but without real ire.  Rhys’s hands were starting to wander over his chest and stomach, which meant excellent things lay ahead.  Cock-sucking things.

Sure enough, pretty soon Rhys’s talented mouth was coaxing noises out of Axis that would’ve been embarrassing in any other circumstance, some far-inferior circumstance that didn’t involve Rhys’s tongue sliding around just _so_ , his fingers teasing the parts of Axis that his mouth couldn’t reach.  Axis canted his hips up into that mouth steadily, losing his rhythm as he began to get close.  Rhys, feeling it, eased off; queer or not, he never sucked Axis off until he came – pretty boy probably didn’t want spunk on his shirt.

A rustle of fabric: Rhys was kicking off his pants.  The now-familiar bottle of lube was in his hand, but he hadn’t uncapped it.  Instead he was hesitating again, the fucker; Axis fought the urge to start jerking himself off while Rhys got over his weird recurring spaciness.

“Forget how to turn the lid?” Axis asked, propping himself up on his elbows.  “Lefty-loosey…”

“Shut up,” Rhys said absently.  He turned the bottle over in his hands, and then abruptly held it out to Axis.  “Here.  Let’s see if you can top without killing the mood this time.”

Axis’s eyebrows shot up.  Huh – seriously?  Ever since Rhys had interrupted Axis’s first go at pitching, he’d always insisted on topping.  And not that Axis would ever admit it except to himself, on very rare occasions, but Rhys was better at it, anyway.  He knew how to angle himself, what positions worked best.  Axis could fuck, obviously – he had plenty of experience with women, thank you – but guys were different.

“Yeah, I knew you’d come begging for it eventually,” he said now, smirking.  He snatched the bottle from Rhys and squirted the cool lube over his fingers.  “Bottom up, princess.”

Rhys glared at him and grabbed his shirt instead, twisting Axis on top of him so that they landed in a tangle of limbs.  Whatever, that worked, too.

Axis groaned as he pushed into Rhys – god, so fucking _tight_ , he’d forgotten – but Rhys crushed their lips together as soon as Axis was in and most of the sound was lost in the kiss.  Rhys’s hands were everywhere, sliding over Axis’s chest, clutching at his hair – no braids to hang onto this time, girlfriend – running over his thighs; Axis fisted the other man’s cock with his lube-slick hand and started pumping in time with his thrusts.  Rhys was like steel in his grip - this was going to be quick for both of them.

“God, baby,” he moaned, dropping his head into the crook of Rhys’s neck.  “So good…”

Rhys moaned back, breathier than usual.  Axis opened his eyes and stared down into Rhys’s face, brows knitting at the sight.  Rhys had twisted his head away, his eyes clamped shut – he looked _pained_ , and not in the way that came from a good pounding.  Axis slowed his pace, suddenly uncertain.  It wouldn’t be like Rhys to not speak up if it hurt – he was a whiny bitch about that kind of thing.

“Hey,” Axis began, not even sure what the fuck he was going to say.  Rhys’s eyes snapped open, and Axis barely had time to process that they were wet – was he really _crying_ , what the – before Rhys practically snarled, “Harder than that,” and bucked up underneath him and _Jesus_.  Axis’s mind went blank as he went harder, Rhys fucking back as good as Axis gave.  Axis kept his eyes shut until he felt Rhys tense beneath him, and then when he looked at his face it was better, contorted in pleasure this time, as he spurted over Axis’s fist and both their stomachs.  Relieved, and enjoying the sight of Rhys writhing under him for once, Axis finished soon after.

They were both silent for a few minutes as they caught their breath.  Axis fumbled in his nightstand drawer for a couple hand-towels and tossed one of them to Rhys.  He caught it without looking up and rubbed it over his damp face, then mopped up the mess on his abdomen.  When he reached for his discarded pants, Axis blinked.

“That’s it?” he said before he could stop himself.  He didn’t want to sound eager or anything – he fucking _wasn’t_ – but Rhys hadn’t even been here half an hour.

“Sorry, kitten,” Rhys said mildly as he fastened his belt.  “I have an early morning tomorrow.”

Axis refrained from asking what the fuck _that_ could be and shrugged sullenly.

“Whatever.  Throw me my cigs, wouldja?”

Rhys made a face, picking the crumpled pack up between thumb and forefinger like it was going to infect him, and tossed them onto the sheets next to Axis.  He turned to go while Axis lit up, but paused with his hand on the knob and looked back.

“I might as well mention,” he said in an even voice, “I won’t be around again anytime soon.  Full schedule, et cetera.”

Axis blew a thin stream of smoke out of the side of his mouth as this sank in.  The words seemed to settle like lead in his stomach.

“Okay,” he said; he was going for unconcerned but was pretty sure he just sounded confused.  “Fine.  Sure.  Not like I care or anything.”

“Right,” Rhys said, the corners of his lips tugging upwards for a second, then falling.  He was getting that pained look again.  “Just thought I’d give you a heads-up.  You’ve been…refreshing.”

“Damn straight,” Axis said, his automatic response to anything that sounded like a compliment, but his mind was still spinning over the prospect of Rhys’s absence.  He wanted to ask, how long was “anytime soon”?  What was filling his schedule all of a sudden? 

But he didn’t.  Like he said, he didn’t care.  Let Rhys do whatever the fuck he wanted, and good riddance – the guy took up too much damn mental energy anyway.

“So long, Alice,” Rhys said, opening the door, and Axis chucked the nearest object – a pillow, not exactly threatening – at him out of habit.  The door closed just in time for the pillow to thump against it, and Axis stared at it where it lay on the floor.

“Later,” he said, to no one.  A moment later, downstairs, there was the faint sound of the front door closing.  If Axis had been the literary type, he might have thought it had a note of finality about it.  But books were stupid.

-

Later that night Axis was rummaging in the fridge, looking for leftovers of the spongy cake thing that had been their dessert, and Claret’s greeting piping up behind him nearly made him smack his head on one of the shelves.

“ _Fuck_ , you came out of nowhere,” he barked, slamming the platter of cake – jackpot, baby – down on the counter.

“Sorry!” Claret chirped.  “Ooh – cut me a slice, too?  I’m making tea.”

“Like you need it,” Axis muttered, but complied.  He finished his piece in about three bites, not really listening to Claret’s chatter until she was addressing him directly.

“–Exciting, don’t you think?  I can’t wait to read about it.”

“What?”

Claret rolled her eyes.  “The royal _wedding_ , silly.  The prince is getting married tomorrow – don’t you pay any attention to current events at _all_?”

“Sounds fucking stupid,” he said, and waved off the cup of tea she offered him.  “I’m going to bed.”

Claret cared about the dumbest shit.  The hell did he care about some prince, anyway?  Guy was probably a queer.


End file.
